


Growing Old

by SXM132



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, suicidal behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-03 17:52:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14574366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SXM132/pseuds/SXM132
Summary: Concerned for her wellbeing, Lightning pays Fang a visit.





	Growing Old

Lightning anxiously glanced at the dashboard of her car. ‘Calling Fang’ shone bright across its surface, the flashing phone animation cycling over and over again as the ring emanated through the confined space. After the seventh tone a message kicked on, and the soft and friendly voice on the other end made her chest ache.

_“We’re not available, leave a message!”_

“Fang, I’m coming over,” Lightning told the machine. “I should be there in about an hour … See you then, okay?” She pressed the end-call button on the steering wheel and brought a hand up to pinch her brows, forcing her eyes to concentrate on the road. Fang was a three-hour drive from where Lightning lived. The area was mountainous and heavily wooded. Normally she would avoid the winding pitch black roads after dark, but Lightning couldn’t shake the feeling inside of her.

She was worried about Fang. She’d seemed like she was doing better, enough so that everyone let her be, but now Lightning was losing her confidence in that assumption. Fang wasn’t responding to anyone’s calls or texts; she hadn’t been in over a week. Lightning called half a dozen times throughout the workday, before she decided to leave early and make her way over to the woman’s home personally.

To be honest, she was more than worried. She was afraid. Afraid of what she might find once she arrived. Afraid of what she knew Fang was capable of.

_Death won’t keep us apart._

Fang had said it to Vanille on the last day of the old world, with the severity and conviction of a blood oath. It was after they’d broken the Saint from the deathgrip of the Soulsong, but not before it’d cleaved precious, countless years off the woman’s life. One, two, ten, twenty … Vanille woke up beside Fang for nineteen years in the new world. Then one day, she didn’t.

Tears pricked the corners of Lightning’s eyes and she blinked them away, the memory from two months prior unwillingly flooding back to her. _‘She’s not breathing’_ Fang had whimpered into the receiver, and Lightning listened helplessly from the other end as she broke down and wailed like an animal dealt a death wound. It was a sound she would never be able to forget.

“Please be safe,” she murmured out loud. Despite the tricky roads she leaned her foot on the gas, speeding up to race her growing panic.

-

Knocking on the door she stood back and waited impatiently, throwing her gaze over to the parked car in the driveway. The lights were out, but she knew Fang was home. After a minute with no response Lightning thumbed through her keys and found the spare the couple had given her a while back. She unlocked the door and stepped through the threshold. The interior of the home was as cold and dark as the early spring night outdoors. Cautiously she flicked on the lights, glancing around the vacant living space.

“Fang?”

No answer. She walked into the kitchen and again turned on the lights. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. There were a couple of dishes stacked in the sink, and a calendar had fallen down from the fridge. Or had it been thrown? Reaching down she picked it up, examining the fluffy chocobo chicks on the cover of May. There was only one date noted on the calendar. ‘38’ was written in marker on the twenty-third, along with a smiley face with a dot nose. It looked like Vanille’s handwriting. Fang must have seen it when she flipped to the new month. That was nine days ago.

Having a probable explanation as to what triggered Fang, Lightning set the calendar on the table and advanced further into the house with a heightened sense of apprehension. She tried to keep herself calm. As disturbing as it was to note, there was no scent of decay in the air. Fang was alive, at the very least. She hoped.

Coming to the end of the hallway she found the door to the bedroom partially open. “Fang,” she called again, and used that to announce her entry into the room. Like the rest of the house it was pitch black. Only the dim light from the open window illuminated the silhouette of the woman lying in bed. Lightning walked over to the blanket covered form. The first thing she did was check her breath with the back of her hand. It was there, however shallow. She sat down on the mattress and reached for her shoulder, giving her a gentle shake. “Fang.”

The older woman was unresponsive. Stretching toward the lamp on the nightstand Lightning switched it on, getting her first good look at her long-time comrade. Her hair was a mess, but that was nothing new. What unnerved Lightning was just how gaunt her cheeks looked. Pulling her hand from underneath the covers she checked her pulse. Unsurprisingly it was quite faint.

“Fang,” she said, much louder this time, and swatted lightly at the side of her face. Fang’s brows knitted together almost painfully, and she groaned and turned away from the light source. She opened her eyes just a sliver, then shut them again.

“Light?”

“Yeah,” the other woman confirmed softly. “When’s the last time you ate something?”

“I don’t … remember.” She grimaced, looking utterly dazed. “I don’t feel good … Why’re you here? M’where’s Vanille?”

Lightning thinned her lips. Fang was delirious. From what she could assess she hadn’t moved in days. Was it from fatigue, or something more deliberate? Leaning closer she hooked her arm around Fang’s back, pulling her up as her other hand removed the blankets from atop her.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” she said calmly.

Fang, suddenly gripping some vague sense of reality, shook her head irritably. “No,” she croaked. “Leave me.”

“Tough.” Getting her arm beneath Fang’s knees she hefted her off the bed, alarmed by how much weight she’d lost. The older woman grunted but didn’t resist. _Couldn’t_ resist, as her limbs dangled as useless as a ragdoll’s. It made Lightning feel sick, to see what strong, confident, powerful Fang had been reduced to. She shouldn’t have left her alone. She should have known better.

As gently as she could Lightning carried Fang out of the house and into the passenger seat of her car. She strapped her in and hovered, brushing away a trail of moisture that had trickled down from the woman’s shut eyes. She looked like she was in agony.

Closing the passenger door she took a quiet moment to herself, leaning her elbow against the roof and rubbing a hand over her face. Dual sides of her personality warred within her mind and she wondered; was she really doing the right thing?

Vanille would tell her yes.

-

Lightning listened to the rhythmic beep of the EKG as she sat in silence. Fang was still out of it, lying in the hospital bed with an IV strapped to her arm. The disadvantage to living in a new, _free_ world was that there were no cure-all spells to remedy her symptoms. Nor did they possess the advanced technology she once took for granted on Cocoon. Fang’s recovery would take days, physically. Mentally was another story.

Lightning decided to call off from work for the remainder of the week. She told the others that Fang was alright, and that she would be looking after her for a few days. She spared the details regarding the hospital visit. It wasn’t her place to tell them, lest she upset Fang further. Bringing her eyes up from the floor she studied the woman, watching the gentle rise and fall of her breath as she slept.

Out of all of them, she’d never expected Vanille to be the first to go, especially at such a young age. She couldn’t begin to understand how Fang must have felt. Lightning loved Vanille too, of course, but to Fang … Vanille had been her everything. Did she think she had nothing, now that she was gone?

Fang stirred, the EKG picking up a pace as she did so. She lifted her head from the pillow in confusion, then brought her attention to the IV. Lightning leaned over and stilled her hand before she could rip it from her arm. Fang looked at the rose haired woman with half-hearted anger, the burst of energy already depleted, and fell back against the hospital bed again. She clenched her jaw and stared hard at the wall in front of her.

“You should have left me there.”

Lightning shook her head dismissively. “You’re sick, Fang. I brought you here so you can get better.”

“I’m not sick, I’m tired,” she hissed weakly. “Tired of putting up the charade. Tired of pretending that life is worth a damn without her in it.” She gritted her teeth, fresh tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I wanted to go … Why couldn’t you just let me go?”

That was all the confirmation Lightning needed. Fang had intended to waste away in that house. Nauseated by the thought she bowed her head, momentarily unable to speak. What could you say to someone after you thwarted their suicide attempt? And of all the horrific ways to go about it, she chose to starve herself to death? Was she punishing herself for what happened to Vanille?

She could almost hear the chain of reasoning. If only she’d destroyed the clavis sooner. If only she hadn’t taken so long to reach Vanille and break the spell. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t save her. She couldn’t save her. She couldn’t save her.

“We were supposed to be together forever. We were supposed to grow old.” The tears leaked down Fang’s face now, her bottom lip trembling. “What am I still doing here without her?”

Lightning cleared her tight throat, her own eyes glossy. “You’re living. That’s what Vanille would want.”

“Vanille would want us to be together,” Fang challenged. “She needs me. She’s all alone … _I’m_ all alone.”

“ _We_ need you,” Lightning argued back, her voice cracking. “Sazh and Dajh need you. Serah, Snow and the kids need you. Hope. Noel. Yeul. We all need you. _I_ need you.” A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away with her palm, steel blue eyes never leaving the other woman. “You’re _not_ alone. We’re your family. We didn’t have a choice with Vanille, but with you we do. Please don’t go. We can’t stand to lose the both of you.”

Fang dropped her chin, that look of agony spreading across her mature features again. Quiet sobs began to rack her form. Lightning moved to sit on the edge of the bed and pulled her close, crushing the broken woman tightly in her arms. “I miss her so much,” Fang wept. “It hurts. It’s tearing me apart.”

“I know. I know.” Lightning stroked the back of her head, tears of her own freely shed and streaming down to her chin. “We’ll get through this. We just have to be brave.” As she embraced her she thought of Vanille. The woman who had made her cheerful disposition and generosity the forefront of her personality. The woman fueled by fun, who had celebrated her thirtieth birthday by convincing Lightning to lop off her pigtails into a pixie cut (and subsequently giving Fang a minor heart attack). The woman who had always been there for them, unquestionably, and made each and every one of them feel wanted and loved. This was Lightning’s chance to return that kindness.

_I’m glad that she’s out there somewhere. Living. Laughing._

Recalling the words from so long ago, Lightning knew Vanille would never want Fang to go on like this. She wasn’t the Savior anymore; hadn’t been for nearly two decades. But she swore, right then, that she had one last wish to fulfill. A promise to Vanille.

_‘I’ll keep her living. I’ll keep her laughing. Until she’s old and grey, and I can hand her safely back to you.’_

_-_


End file.
